Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Seungkwan clutched his phone tightly, his fingers trembling as he pressed it to his ear. His voice was broken, barely a whisper, but the weight of his words hit like a thunderstorm.
"Seokmin... he's cheating on me. Mingyu is cheating on me."
A sharp intake of breath came from the other end of the line. "What? Seungkwan, are you sure?" Seokmin's voice was laced with concern, already shifting from disbelief to worry.
Seungkwan let out a shaky breath, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I know it. I’ve known for a while. I just... I just couldn’t say it out loud until now."
Hearing his best friend’s raw pain, Seokmin immediately sprang into action. "Stay right there. I’m coming. Don’t do anything, okay? Just hold on. I’ll be there soon."
The line went dead, and Seungkwan let the phone slip from his fingers. The silence of the house was suffocating, wrapping around him like an unbearable weight. He stood frozen for a moment before a choked sob escaped his lips. His knees buckled, and he pressed his hands against his face, trying to stifle the cries that clawed their way out of his chest.
Minutes felt like hours, but soon, hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway. The front door burst open, and Seokmin was there—panting, eyes filled with worry. The moment Seungkwan saw him, he didn’t hesitate. He ran, throwing himself into Seokmin’s arms, and as soon as Seokmin caught him, Seungkwan broke down completely. His sobs were heart-wrenching, his body trembling as he clung desperately to his best friend.
Seokmin held him tightly, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "I’m here, Seungkwan. I’m here. Just let it out."
Seungkwan’s cries filled the room, his pain pouring out in waves, and Seokmin could do nothing but hold him, silently cursing Mingyu for breaking the one person who loved him the most.
---
After what felt like an eternity, Seungkwan’s sobs quieted. He and Seokmin sat on the couch, the weight of the truth pressing heavily on the room. Seungkwan’s tears had slowed, but they still spilled silently down his cheeks. He stared at nothing, his hands trembling as he finally spoke again.
"Mingyu has changed so much in these last two years..." Seungkwan’s voice was hollow, distant. "We’ve been married for five years, but these past two… they’ve been different. He stays late at work, goes on business trips more often. He hardly answers my calls or replies to my messages. When he comes home, it’s usually early in the morning, without saying anything to me."
Seokmin stayed silent, letting Seungkwan speak, letting him pour out everything he had been holding in.
"At first, I told myself it was just work. That he was busy, that he was stressed. But then… I started noticing things. He smelled like different perfumes—the kind we don’t have at home. He distanced himself from me, little by little, and I felt it. I felt it, Seokmin, but I didn’t want to believe it. I trusted him. I kept telling myself I was just overthinking. Mingyu was my husband. He was my only family, my only home. How could I doubt him?" Seungkwan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as more tears fell. "But deep down, I already knew."
Seokmin clenched his fists, his heart aching as he listened.
"I just... I needed proof. I didn’t want to believe my mind. And then, last night..." Seungkwan swallowed, his entire body trembling. "Mingyu came home drunk. He was different that night—clingy, desperate. He wanted me, and I... I let him. I didn’t ask questions. I never did. If my husband needed me, I would give him anything. That’s just how it’s always been."
His voice cracked, his hands gripping his own arms as if holding himself together. "And then, right when he was holding me, right when he was inside me... he called me by another name."
Seokmin sucked in a sharp breath, his chest tightening in anger and heartbreak.
Seungkwan let out a broken laugh, his eyes red and swollen. "That’s when I knew for sure. That’s when I knew I was nothing to him anymore."
---
Seungkwan fell silent after his confession, lost in deep thought. His fingers played with the fabric of his shirt, his breathing shallow. Seokmin stayed beside him, his arm wrapped around Seungkwan’s shoulders, offering quiet comfort.
Then, Seungkwan’s phone buzzed, pulling both of them out of their thoughts. He glanced at the screen, his heart sinking the moment he saw the sender’s name.
Mingyu.
With hesitant fingers, he unlocked his phone and read the message:
I’m coming home for dinner. Prepare something. I’m bringing a friend—Wonwoo.
Seungkwan’s breath hitched, his grip on the phone tightening. His face drained of color, and a fresh wave of silent tears rolled down his cheeks.
Seokmin noticed immediately. "Seungkwan? What is it? What did he say?"
Seungkwan let out a shaky laugh, his voice barely above a whisper. "He’s coming home... with a friend." He swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he said the name. "Wonwoo."
Seokmin stiffened. He didn’t need to ask. He already knew. Wonwoo—the name Mingyu had moaned the night before. The name that had shattered Seungkwan’s heart into pieces.
Seokmin’s hands curled into fists, his jaw tightening in fury. "Are you kidding me? He’s actually bringing him here?" His voice shook with restrained anger.
Seungkwan gave a bitter smile through his tears. "Maybe I already know what’s going to happen next. Mingyu… he’s going to announce his relationship to me. He’s going to tell me he’s leaving."
Seokmin’s chest ached at how resigned Seungkwan sounded, as if he had already accepted his fate. But Seokmin wasn’t ready to let this slide. He wasn’t going to let Mingyu hurt Seungkwan any more than he already had.
-----
The night had already settled in when Mingyu arrived home, Wonwoo trailing closely behind him. The house was dimly lit, the atmosphere heavy with an unsettling quiet. As the door creaked open, Seungkwan stood there, waiting. His face was unreadable, his demeanor unnervingly calm—too calm to be real.
Without a word, Seungkwan stepped aside, allowing them to enter. He didn’t greet Mingyu with his usual warm smile, nor did he throw his arms around him like he used to, desperate for even a fraction of the affection he used to receive. Instead, he simply turned and walked away, his back straight, his steps measured. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
Mingyu hesitated in the doorway, momentarily thrown off. He was used to Seungkwan's eager greetings, the way he used to rush into his arms despite getting nothing in return. This—this cold indifference—was foreign, and it unsettled him.
Frowning, he stepped inside, Wonwoo following closely, his presence unspoken but undeniable.
The first thing Mingyu noticed was Seokmin, sitting stiffly on the couch. His expression was blank, but his dark eyes bore into Mingyu with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. Seokmin did not stand, did not acknowledge them with so much as a nod. He simply stared, unblinking, the weight of his silence pressing into the room like a storm waiting to break.
Mingyu had never liked Seokmin. He had tolerated him for Seungkwan’s sake, put up with his protective nature, and his unwavering loyalty. But now, under the piercing gaze of the man who had always been by Seungkwan’s side, Mingyu felt something unfamiliar.
Guilt.
Wonwoo shifted beside him, clearly feeling the tension, but neither of them spoke. The air was thick with unsaid words, with the inevitable confrontation looming just beyond reach.
Something was different tonight.
Mingyu’s eyes drifted toward the dining table, expecting to see the usual setup of dinner neatly arranged, waiting for him. But there was nothing. No food, no plates, not even a single glass of water. The table was empty, just like the space between him and Seungkwan.
His irritation flared instantly. “What the hell, Seungkwan?” he snapped, turning to face him. “I told you to make dinner. Do you just ignore my messages now?”
Seungkwan didn’t flinch. He didn’t react at all. He simply stood there, silent, his face eerily blank, his eyes devoid of the warmth they once held. He looked at Mingyu as if he were a stranger.
Mingyu clenched his jaw, his annoyance bubbling into anger. “Are you serious right now? I come home after a long day, and you can’t even do something this simple? What’s wrong with you?”
The silence stretched unbearably, suffocating him. Just as he was about to lash out again, Seungkwan finally spoke.
“I want a divorce.”
The words sliced through the air like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. The room, already tense, seemed to freeze entirely.
Mingyu’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at Seungkwan, waiting for some kind of clarification, a sign that he had misheard.
But Seungkwan didn’t waver. He stood firm, his eyes locked onto Mingyu’s with a finality that sent a chill down his spine.
For the first time that night, it wasn’t Mingyu in control. It was Seungkwan.
Mingyu’s mind reeled for a moment, confusion flickering across his face before realization settled in. Did Seungkwan already know? Had he figured it out? His lips parted, but no words came at first. Then, in a carefully measured tone, he spoke.
“Seungkwan, listen… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t plan for any of this to happen.” His voice was unnaturally calm, as if he could still salvage something from this wreckage. “I never wanted to betray you. Things just… changed.”
Seungkwan said nothing. His gaze remained steady, unwavering.
Mingyu exhaled sharply, then reached out and grabbed Wonwoo’s hand. His grip tightened as if bracing himself. Looking directly at Seungkwan, he finally said the words he had rehearsed in his head for days.
“Wonwoo is pregnant. With my child.”
Silence.
“I want to build a family with him.”
Seungkwan’s face remained unreadable, completely still, as if he hadn’t even heard those words.
Mingyu swallowed, forcing himself to continue. “You mean a lot to me, Seungkwan. I don’t want to lose you completely. I love Wonwoo more, but you’ve been a part of my life for so long… I still want you in it. As a friend.”
The moment stretched unbearably. Seungkwan’s fingers curled slightly at his sides, but he did not speak. Minutes passed, the weight of Mingyu’s words settling between them like an unmovable wall.
Then, finally, Seungkwan inhaled softly. His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper.
“I don’t want to.”
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Mingyu standing there, stunned, as the world he had expected to control slipped entirely from his grasp.